


Across the Universe(s)

by charliechick117



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2477618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliechick117/pseuds/charliechick117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you believe in fate?  In destiny?  In universes besides our own?  I mean, really believe.  Not some false, scientific truth that we've been told to recite, but actual belief."</p><p>He paused and felt Dwalin's eyes boring into him.  Softly, in his deep, rumbling voice, he replied:</p><p>"I believe in you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Week of Dwalin/Ori](https://archiveofourown.org/works/714080) by [charliechick117](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charliechick117/pseuds/charliechick117). 



> Inspired by the chapter "Meetings" of my Dwalin/Ori week fic.

Drowning.  He had to be drowning.  Stuck in a barrel crashing down a river with orcs trying to kill them, and Ori was drowning.  What a way to go.  Not even eaten by a dragon.  That, at least, would have been legendary.  Though, from what he could see, the others weren't faring too well either.  Up and down the river went and Ori was soaked to the bone, his knitted things heavy with the weight.

The barrel crested over one more wave and it was over.

Ori lifted his head up to a huge table.  The feast to send them off to the mountain.  The feast before their certain death.  Across the table was a dwarf as broad as the mountain, one that he was close to though he couldn't think of a name even though they'd been traveling together for months now.  He smiled at Ori and waved him over.  Ori stood, the room spun, and those strong arms were around him in an instant.

Shoved upright, Ori felt himself being pushed through hallways, though his sight was dim and the walls seemed to wobble, a firm hand on his shoulder kept him grounded.

He fell onto the bed and looked up at the starry sky.

There was a warm hand wrapped around his own and Ori didn't need to turn to know who it was.  They were waiting for a sign, for anything to show that their halfling had done his job.  Ori turned to his companion, mesmerized by the sight of starlight reflected in his eyes.  He lifted up their joined hands and pressed a dry, whiskery kiss to the back of Ori's hand.

"Would you be mine?"

"Forever."

The mountain shook.  The sky turned to fire.

And Ori woke up in a cold sweat.

* * *

The dreams started so long ago Ori couldn't remember life without them.  Dreams about people he'd never met.  Dreams about fantastical worlds and dangerous times.  The only connecting line between his dreams was the strong, protecting partner by his side.  Someone that Ori had never seen before.  Dori told him that it was impossible.  You could only dream of people you've seen.  Something about your brain using images already stored.

Breakfast was quiet, as always.  Dori was reading the news on his tablet.  Nori was glancing over criminal profiles.  Ori munched on his toast.  He had given up talking about his dreams years ago.  There was no explaining it.  There was no harm in it.  Why bother?

"Eat up, Ori," Dori gave him a glance.  "The full moon is tonight."

Ori rolled his eyes.  "Despite what you say, Dori.  The children are not deviants on the full moon."

"Just you wait," Dori said.  "You'll see what I mean soon enough."

Ori rolled his eyes.  He moved the eggs on his plate around, squishing it against his bacon.  His dream was still vivid in his mind, though the details slipped away the more he focused on them.

He could only remember his companion.  The big, strong, protective man who seemed to follow him through his dreams.

Appetite gone, Ori pushed his plate to the center of the table.  He kissed Dori's forehead and ran a hand over Nori's shoulders.  Jacket over his arm and keys in hand, Ori left for work.  He had never thought he would become a preschool teacher, but after he started, he realized there was nothing else he'd rather do.  There was an optimism and innocence among children that Ori found relieving.  They were absolutely crazy, couldn't remember anything Ori said, and cried frequently, but he loved them anyway.

The preschool was a modest building in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, one that was gifted to him from the previous owner.  It was one large room with a bathroom and kitchen on the side.  The yard was wide with a decent playground in the corner.  It was quaint and Ori couldn't think of a better preschool for him to own.  It was a home away from home.  The children always brightened his day and Ori desperately needed that.

He carefully opened the door and was promptly greeted with chaos.

Twenty-two children stared up at him with wide eyes.  The boxes of toys were thrown all over the room and books scattered by the shelves.  Four of the children were crying and two were fighting over a book.  At the sight of Ori, everyone went quiet.  Bilbo poked his head out from the kitchen, eyes frantic and hair frazzled.  With a sigh, Ori dropped his bag by the door and turned to the children.

"Why don't you go outside for a few moments?" Ori said.  "We'll have a snack when you come back."

With many cheering and squishing, the children ran out the back door.  Dutifully, Ori started to clean up the books and toys from the floor.  Bilbo propped open the windows to the back, squeals and laughter filtering through the preschool.  He felt Bilbo come up beside him, tossing toys into their respective boxes.  Ori could see him out of the corner of his eye, face set in concentration as he cleaned.

Ori's head spun.  He had seen this before.  In his dream.  The two of them cleaning the floor before a dragon attack in a legendary mountain.  His hands shook as he felt his mind thrown back into that mystical dream world.  Bilbo's voice seemed to call from far away, and Ori snapped up at him.

"Sorry?"

Bilbo's eyes narrowed.  "You had another dream didn't you?"

Ori nodded.  Bilbo sighed.  He threw in the last few toys and scooted beside Ori, helping with the books.

"You really should see someone about that," Bilbo said.  "It's not healthy."

"That is incorrect," Ori countered, scooping the books up and sliding them neatly into the shelf.  "There is nothing about these dreams that are interfering with my normal life.  I am perfectly healthy."

"It's not natural," Bilbo said.  "You know that, right?"

Ori sighed and stood up.  He leaned up against the wall, staring out at the children in the yard.  As far as he knew, no one else suffered from the dreams he did.  For years Ori believed that they were normal dreams, nothing strange about them.  Even knowing that they were abnormal didn't change his stance on therapy.

The dreams weren't hurting anyone, why stop them?

"Bring the kids in.  We're going over the alphabet again today."

 

It shouldn't have been a surprise to see Nori waiting for him, but Ori still jumped as the shadow came up to him.  Dori was still at the boutique, altering some bride's dress.  Nori should have been at the precinct, working on the most recent case, but that wasn't really Nori's style.

"It is my duty as the bad influence to warn you that Dori signed you up with a therapist."

Ori sighed and dropped his bag onto the ground.  It had been years since he sought comfort in his brother, but that's what family was for.  Ori slid himself between Nori's arms and nestled himself in for a hug.

"I don't want to go," Ori sighed.  "It's not that big of a problem is it?"

"You know Dori is just worried for you," Nori wrapped his arms around Ori.  "He's only doing what he think is right."

"Well it's crap," Ori muttered.  "They're just dreams."

With a heavy heart and a stubborn attitude, Ori was taken to therapy the next day.

The office was sterile in the worst ways.  White walls with oil paintings of scenery hung occasionally.  The other patients fidgeted in their seats, picking at their nails and chewing on their fingers.  Ori didn't feel like he belonged with them.  These were people with serious issues, people who needed help.  Not like Ori, who was really just fine.  He just had dreams.

He didn't even have one last night.

Ori flipped open his phone again, checking his messages.  He left Bilbo in charge of the preschool for the day.  Not something he felt any concern over, but it still left an unsettling feeling in his gut to leave his students.

The office had a stifling silence that all doctor offices have.  Patients quietly waiting for their name to be called.  There was no music to break the silence, only the snatches of whispered conversation and rustling of pages.

"Ori Raison?"

Dori raised his eyebrows at Ori.  With a heavy sigh, Ori dragged himself to the desk.  He filled out all the paperwork, got his vitals checked, and was left in a side office.  Spinning around, Ori took in the office.

It wasn't much, as far as offices go.  A desk in the center, covered with folders and papers.  A filing cabinet in one corner and a bookshelf that dominated the wall behind him.  Most, if not all, the titles involved some kind of psychology and a few were on dream interpretation.  At least Dori knew how to pick a doctor.

Oin Becker.

The door opened and Dr. Oin stepped in.  If Ori had time to imagine what his new therapist would look like, he would imagine someone looking exactly like Dr. Oin.  White hair, thick beard, round glasses perched on his nose.  He smiled warmly at Ori, eyes crinkling around the corners.

"Hello," he shook Ori's hand as he sat down behind the desk.  "You may call me Oin.  I like to be on friendly terms with my clients."

Ori instantly liked him.

They spent their half hour talking about Ori.  No detail was too small for Oin.  He wanted to hear it all.  It was the most open Ori had been in a long time.  They didn't even touch the dreams.  He left with a light heart and a card for a followup appointment in a few weeks.

 

Time went on as usual.  Ori continued to visit Oin every two or three weeks.  He and Bilbo struggled with their preschool and teaching the children.  Nori managed to capture not one, but two homicide suspects.  Dori's alteration boutique exploded with business and the dreams seemed to take a back burner.

Ori knew better than to think the dreams were gone.  They never left him.

Three months after starting his therapy, Ori woke up screaming.  All he saw was blood and bruising on the face of his dream companion.  His strong and powerful body broken underneath of Ori's hands.  He couldn't do anything to stop it.

Dori was shaking him awake and Ori was sobbing into his chest.  He couldn't get the image out of his head.  He didn't even know who he was dreaming about, who this man was.  How could he be so affected by someone who wasn't real?

"He was dead," Ori whispered.  "He was bleeding and broken and dead and I couldn't do anything about it."

Dori sighed and held Ori closer.  "You need to tell Oin tomorrow."

"I know.  I know."

Closing his eyes, Ori could only see death.


	2. Chapter 2

Bursting through the surface Ori saw the glittering ship in the distance, pristine white against the ocean and sky.  Heart pounding in his throat, Ori swam up to the ship.  He knew the pirates who sailed this vessel.  He knew they were noble and strong.  He knew one was more noble and more strong than the others.  That was the man Ori was looking for.  He waved to the crew, who smirked and gave wolf whistles as a rowboat was lowered into the water.  Ori would have flushed from embarrassment if he hadn't been so distracted.

Dwalin was coming down.

Ori's stomach swooped.

It took far too long for the rowboat to splash in the water.

"I've missed you," Dwalin whispered into his hair, arms tight around Ori.  "By the gods I've missed you."

Ori didn't reply, just tightening his grip around Dwalin's neck, mindful to not tip the boat over.  Those words seemed too small to describe the hollow feeling when Dwalin wasn't around.  That desire that felt like fire in his veins, burning him through and through.  Ori wanted to drag Dwalin closer and never, ever, let him go.  He settled for pressing a damp kiss to Dwalin's forehead.

"Someday," Ori whispered.

Dwalin pulled back and looked Ori straight in the eyes.  His hand rested on Ori's cheek, thumb running over his cheekbone.  Despite Ori being half in the water, painfully stretched over the lip of the boat, he felt immensely loved.  Not for the first time, Ori smiled at the ridiculous nature of it all.  Here he was, a merman in love with a pirate.  At least he was content to know the pirate loved him back.  He hardly flinched when Dwalin pressed insistent kisses against his lips.

However, he did protest slightly when Dwalin scooped him out of the water and laid him out in the bottom of the boat.

"This is a bad idea," Ori said, even as Dwalin nipped at his neck.  "I'm going to dry out or the boat is gonna flip.  Or both."

"I can be quick and careful," Dwalin countered.

Ori shuddered as Dwalin's hands ran up and down his sides.  "Neither are words I would use to describe you, love."

Dwalin chuckled, burying his face into Ori's neck.  "Perhaps you are rubbing off on me."

"Perhaps I am."

How desperately Ori wanted to stay there, safe and secure in Dwalin's arms.  But he was a merman and Dwalin was a hydrophobic pirate.  There wasn't a way to reconcile them.  He gripped Dwalin's hair and pulled him closer.  Somehow he knew that it would work out.  It had to work out.  Here, in the middle of the ocean, sunlight hot against their skin, they laid side by side.  It didn't matter what difficulties were in their way, they were going to be together.

"I love you," Ori whispered through dry, cracking lips.  His time was up.  He had to go back into the ocean or risk death.

Dwalin kissed him deep and slow, sucking out Ori's last breath.  Ori glanced up, eyes heavy and skin crusty.  Dwalin lifted him and gently set him into the ocean.

"I'll love you forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU will have dream references to other AUs I've written. This one happened to the be the Pirate AU.


	3. Chapter 3

"The first thing we want to do it talk about these dreams you've been having.  It's very clear that they are influencing your life.  So please, tell me about what is in your dreams?"

"It depends.  I don't know if I have the same dreams."

"Let's focus on one of them then.  Let's talk about the nightmare you had."

"I... I don't want to.  Not- not yet."

"I understand.  Is there another dream you want to talk about?"

A pause.

"I was a merman.  There was a ship.  Brilliant white with gold trim.  There was a man on there.  The one I've dreamed about before."

"Can you please describe him for me?"

"Ummm I don't, I mean, he's... big.  Broad shoulders, thick fingers.  I don't really remember much of him, but when I wake up he just makes me think of... biker.  That's not really helpful, I'm sorry.  It's just... all I can say."

"I understand."

"I've been dreaming about him for... forever.  No matter what happens in my dreams or who else happens to be there, this man is always there.  I've dreamed of mountains and of gang wars.  I've had dreams where I'm in a deadly heist or a famous novelist.  They're wild dreams; things I never would have imagined.  But he's always there."

"Could you please describe your relationship with this man?"

"Oh.  Um.  Well, that is, I mean.  It's... It feels personal.  I know it doesn't make sense because I don't... I don't know him.  He doesn't exist outside of my head, right?"

"I think you would benefit from a dream journal.  Every morning when you wake up from a vivid dream, write down all the details you remember.  With luck, we will be able to find a way for you to work with these dreams."

* * *

With a start, Ori fell off the couch, dream still vivid in his brain.  Half delirious, Ori stumbled into his room, grasping for a pen and scrabbling for his dream journal.  He blinked rapidly, shaking the fuzzy feeling from his head.

_I was running from gunfire towards my companion.  He had a tommy gun on his hip and one arm open for me.  I jumped into them and heard a horrified shout.  It was Nori and Dori behind me, looking terrified.  We were rivals with his family.  How Romeo and Juliet of us._

Ori wracked his brain for more.  He couldn't remember anything else specifically.  There was a ridiculous amount of protection he felt from his companion.  Ori wished that this man was here, next to him always.  He'd been visiting Oin for almost four months now and instead of getting better, the dreams were getting worse, the emotions were getting worse, growing stronger than before.

A huge yawn split across his face.  Rubbing his eyes, Ori glanced around.  He was in the preschool, moonlight shining down through the window blinds.  Ori tugged his phone from his pocket.  Three missed calls, five text messages.  It was nearly four in the morning on a Thursday.  He didn't remember falling asleep in the preschool.  The kids were picked up and he and Bilbo worked on some paperwork.

Then Bilbo left to take care of his nephew and cousins and Ori kept himself busy with finalizing Christmas lesson plans before, apparently, passing out on the couch.  He sent Dori a quick text, asking for a change of clothes to be dropped off at the preschool.

Not for the first time, Ori wondered if he should give his companion a name.  It would make things easier, to give a name to this anonymous figure.  At the same time, however, Ori didn't want to do a disservice by giving the wrong name, which was certain to happen.  Ori couldn't shake the feeling that this man was real.  He had a name, a past, a life.  Who was Ori to give him a wrong name?

Dori burst through the door with a bright ray of sunshine.  It was such a ridiculous image that Ori couldn't help the breathless chuckle that escaped him.

"What are you doing here?" Dori demanded.  "You didn't come home last night and Nori very nearly called the chief on you.  Are you okay?  Are you safe?"

"I'm fine," Ori said, taking the bundle of clothes and walking to the bathroom.  "I just... fell asleep here I guess."

"Did you dream?"

"Yes."

Dori sighed heavily.  Ori shut the bathroom door.

 

Embracing the dreams full force meant that Ori found himself daydreaming about them.  His mind was filled with different worlds and scenarios.  He kept going back to his companion, the man in his dreams.  He was falling in love with him.  How could he deny it any more?  He was in love with a dream, with an impossible man in impossible situation.  There was no reason for this man to fall into his real life with his real boring job.

It was a difficult thing to explain.

Bilbo sat across the table from him, delicate fingers wrapped around his coffee mug.  They were sitting quietly and alone in Ori's house.  Dori was out, as was Nori, leaving the two of them alone as Ori talked about his dreams.  He was patient as Ori tried to fumble his thoughts into manageable words.

"I think I'm in love with him," Ori finally confessed, staring down at the wooden table.  "I don't know why.  I Just... he's important to me."

A slow, level stare met Ori's eyes.  How Bilbo managed to give Ori a dozen different meanings with his stare baffled him.  This was why the children always listened to him.  Bilbo's stare could absolutely kill you.

"He's a dream, sweetie," Bilbo said.  "You do understand that."

"He doesn't feel like a dream," Ori said.  "He feels like someone real.  Like a memory."

"But you've never met him before."

"I know," Ori groaned.  "I can't explain it.  It's just... I don't understand it.  That's why I'm visiting Oin."

"But are you getting better?"

"This isn't about getting better.  I think this is about understanding the dreams, understanding who this man is.  It's something... something more than just dreams and fantasies."

"I won't pretend to understand, but please, Ori, we're worried about you."

"It seems like everyone is worried about me now."

Everyone but the person Ori wanted most.

 

The office was quiet and sterile as always.  Ori glanced up at Oin.  For being Ori's therapist, Oin was strangely quiet.  He tended to let Ori ramble and talk himself into circles.  Occasionally, he would pipe up and steer Ori into the right direction.

"Could I give him a name?" Ori asked.  "My dream companion, I mean."

"I suppose if you wanted to, you could," Oin shrugged.  "Is he that important to you?"

"He feels like a memory, not a dream, you know?"

"Let me ask you this," Oin leaned forward, looking over his glasses.  "Do you feel as though your life is run by these dreams?"

"Wasn't at first but then, I don't know, we started meeting and I've been trying to embrace them, understand them, and suddenly it's all I can think about.  My dream companion... he's just constantly on my mind.  It's like I'm in high school all over again, you know?  Daydreaming about this person who I keep longing after who I can't be with and it's driving me crazy.  Not to mention the nightmare where he died in my arms.  It was like... seeing him die was the final straw and I think... I think I care about him too much."

At this, Ori pushed himself to the edge of his seat, "I mean, he's not even real, right?  I'm just falling for my own subconscious and I can't figure out how to stop it.  If I have another nightmare, if he dies, I don't think I can handle it."

Oin hummed thoughtfully, leaning backwards in his chair.  His brilliant blue eyes staring him down.  Ori shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  He seemed to surround himself with people who could stare him down.

"Perhaps we've been taking this the wrong way," Oin finally said.  "Perhaps we should stop the dreams altogether."

 

The bottle looked so unassuming in his hands.  Translucent orange with a white cap.  Hardly anything worth the panic Ori was feeling.  He didn't want to block the dreams, but find a way to embrace them and live with them.  But it was consuming him entirely.  He spent so much of his time worrying over his dreams, wondering about sleeping pills.  He couldn't imagine what would happen if he didn't have those dreams.  They were part of him now.

He collapsed against the closed toilet lid, staring down at the bottle.  1 pill by mouth before bed.  Do not take with alcohol.

"You gonna do it, kid?"

Ori's eyes jumped to the door, Nori casually leaning against it.  He raised his eyebrows and repeated his question, "You gonna do it?"

"I don't know," Ori whispered.  "It's just... too much, you know?"

Nori sat on the edge of the tub, hands folded in his lap and eyes focused.

"I don't even know who this guy is," Ori said, staring resolutely at the bottle.  "I don't think these are normal dreams.  They're too real, too vivid.  I think I have to, I don't know, find this guy?  Maybe he's important.  I don't want to lose him."

Nori reached out and took the bottle from Ori's hands.  He tossed it up in the air a couple of times, eyes tracking the small white pills rattling through it.  So much of Ori didn't know what to do.  The dreams were only occasionally, hardly a regular occurrence.  He wouldn't be losing out on much by trying to take sleeping pills and avoiding them for a while.  Right?

Every time those thoughts started to creep up, Ori remembered those strong arms around him, the tattooed fingers tracing his features, and Ori never wanted to let that go.  It didn't matter that it was a dream, not reality, because he wanted it.

"Am I going crazy?" Ori glanced up at Nori.  Who had ever heard of falling in love with a dream?  This wasn't a fairy tale after all.

With a quick snatch of the bottle out of the air, Nori gave a quick grin.  "Nah.  I work with crazy.  You're nowhere near that."

"But - " Ori couldn't bring the words out of his mouth.  He couldn't explain the feeling of dread and hope and confusion that seemed to swim in his head.

"Hey, who am I to judge your dreams?" Nori shrugged.  "I've heard stranger.  This is your life, kid.  You call the shots."

The pill bottle was held out for him. Ori took it gingerly.  Nori ruffled his hair and left the bathroom.  Ori cracked the bottle open and held one little pill in his hand.  To think that this was going to stop his dreams.  It was going to stop him from seeing his companion, that handsome, strong man who Ori was rapidly falling for.  Was this schizophrenia?

 

_Ori poured out the coffee and held it out.  The man across gave a bright grin, hidden beneath a bushy beard.  A leather jacket thrown over his shoulder.  He took the cup from Ori, fingers brushing._

_"Join me for dinner?" he asked with a rough rumble._

_"Absolutely."_

 

Ori shook his head, the bathroom swimming among the coffee shop.  He tried to shake the dream from his head, focusing entirely on reality.  If that was a sign, Ori believed it.  He tossed the pill into the bottle and screwed it on tight.  He couldn't fight these dreams.  He needed to find this man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest. This fic is my playground. I am trying to keep it less disjointed than I think it's currently feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

The briefcase was cold against his hand.  Ori's eyes flicked down the hallways.  Empty.  He slid the key card against the hotel room lock.  The light went green and he slid the door open.  Dwalin was waiting on the bed beside the target.  A man charged with infidelity.  Ori wasn't here to worry about morals or ethics.  He was here to search the target's dreams for the truth.

Dwalin stood up, "How long do we have?"

"Few hours," Ori set the briefcase on the bed, snapping it open and pulling out the IVs.  "More than enough for you, right?"

"You flatter me," Dwalin grabbed the needle and pricked Ori's elbow.  Ori felt the drug in his system and Dwalin gently laid him on the bed.

"Don't get distracted," Ori mumbled, eyes drooping.

Dwalin laughed and leaned down.  He was whispering something in Ori's ear, but he had already fallen asleep.

 

The heist was a success, naturally.  They never went on heists that they couldn't do.  It was their policy of a sort.  Sending a forger and an architect on an extraction alone was risky business, but Dwalin and Ori were far too good.  They knew their limits and their skills.  Most importantly, they knew each other.

Working in the dream business was a strange lifestyle.  Ori and Dwalin spent more time sleeping in other people's dreams instead of their own.  They lived a life in constant threat.  Stealing ideas from the subconscious of others was not exactly legal, after all.  Sleeping with guns beneath pillows was second nature to them.  They had a suitcase of passports and foreign money that followed them everywhere.

They could flee in an instant.

Their hotel room was lavishly beautiful.  A huge suite at the top of the hotel building, staring out over the city.  Ori hadn't even seen the rest of the suite, spending most of his time in the bed wrapped around Dwalin.  It was their after heist tradition.  Rent the largest hotel room they could buy and spend all night together.  By the next morning they would be halfway across the globe.  It was a habit that kept them alive for years.

Currently, Ori was staring out the huge floor to ceiling window watching the sun rise over the horizon.  He held a thin sheet around him, running a finger over the bite mark on his shoulder.  It tingled and Ori smiled, remembering exactly what position Dwalin delivered that bite.  Tomorrow they would be flying to Japan.  Ori liked Japan.  They never spent enough time there.

Familiar, thick hands ran up his side, resting on his shoulders.  Humming, Ori leaned into it.

"Morning sweetie," Ori said.  "Did you dream?"

"Did you?"

Dwalin's voice was a heavy rumble that shook Ori to his core.  Anyone in the extraction business didn't dream for very long.  Still, it was polite to ask.

"Come back to bed," Dwalin slid his other hand around Ori's waist, calloused thumb running over his hipbone.

"Thorin called while you were sleeping," Ori said, sliding himself into Dwalin's embrace.  "He's got a big heist coming down and wants us in.  Something about inception."

Dwalin ran his lips against Ori's bare shoulder, his beard tickling Ori's neck.  He giggled softly and pulled away, but Dwalin dragged him closer, arms completely encircling him now.  The sheet was dangerously close to falling from Ori's hips.

"Let me guess," Dwalin muttered.  "Thorin's got my brother and Oin to help us out."

"And a few others.  They're meeting in Russia next week.  Interested?"

Dwalin grabbed Ori's hips, turning him around and pushing him back against the huge window.  Before Ori could think, Dwalin was tearing the sheet off Ori's hips and kissing him deeply.

"We'll worry about him later," Dwalin whispered into Ori's gaping mouth.  "This is our time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you're confused, every other chapter is going to be a dream AU which is different from the "original" AU. Hope that makes sense :)


	5. Chapter 5

Life for Ori continued on.  He went to work.  He socialized with Bilbo.  He let Dori dote on him.  He continued to dream.

Almost without his permission, Ori had filled in dozens of notebooks concerning his dreams.  It wasn't so bad, at first, just scattered thoughts of the dreams he'd had.  Scribbles that tried, and failed, to translate all the different lives he led in his dreams.  But it wasn't enough.  Instead of jotting down his dreams as they came, Ori actively wrote the imaginings that came from the dreams.  Each notebook carried a different theme, with people and places and drawings.

It was nigh becoming obsession and Ori couldn't stop.  He carefully hid them beneath his mattress, praying that Dori would never find them.  It was a guilty pleasure of the worst kind.

Carefully, Ori tugged out a notebook with the word "Heist" written on it.  He clicked his pen and began writing.

The dream behind the heist was strange, mostly because Ori wasn't Ori.  He was Owen.  He and a group of men were going to Las Vegas to rob a casino.  The details were fuzzy (they always were) but the feeling of gunshots flying around the gambling tables was crystal clear.  The sight of his companion diving through the hail of bullets, sliding across the linoleum floor and firing his gun at the guards sent Ori into a haze.

Ori looked at the paper, surprised to see that he hadn't written a word, instead he drew the very scene that was playing through his head.  The tables were a smudge of ink on the page, all attention on the man sliding between them.  Ori hadn't drawn him before.  He felt that drawing his companion would make him real, as if the man could climb out of the paper and ink and right into Ori's life.

If only it were that easy.

He'd been asking Oin about it.  Asking if there was anyone who matched his dream companion or anyone who shared Ori's dreams.

There had been nothing.

 

"Call him Daniel," Bilbo said, sliding the notebook back to Ori.  "He looks like a Daniel to me."

Ori stared at the drawing, "I don't know.  It still feels weird."

"Because you think he's real," Bilbo responded dully.

"It would be like if I called you Blake," Ori shrugged.  Truthfully, he knew he should give this man a name, but he feared it would only cement his insanity.

Bilbo sighed and shook his head.  The preschool kids were all down for an hour nap, leaving the two of them time to relax.  Bilbo was gathering the children's projects to send home.  January was their transitional time.  Since their preschool offered a spring and fall session and a child summer camp, there was a lot of transitional paperwork to be done every few months.  Worth it.

"Someone wants to enroll their nephews into our summer camp," Bilbo said casually.  Almost too casually.  Ori narrowed his eyes.  Bilbo coughed.

"This someone must be quite a looker, to get the unflappable Bilbo Baggins blushing."

Bilbo spluttered, "I'm not blushing!"

"Let me guess," Ori set his pen on top of a stack of applications.  "He's tall, dark hair, brilliant eyes."

"At least mine is  _real_."

A slap across the face would have hurt less.  Hell, a stab in the heart would have hurt less.  Ori's chest caved in as the shock flickered across Bilbo's face.  He barely heard Bilbo's apology as he swept up his coat and scarf, breezing out of the preschool and into the cold, winter air.  He stuffed his hands into his pockets, tucked his face against the chill, and walked.

He shouldn't take it out on Bilbo, but what was he supposed to do?  It was like being told your imaginary friend wasn't real only much worse.  It was akin to being told your love didn't matter.  It was different and wrong and false.  Somewhere in Ori's mind, he knew he was being foolish.  Bilbo wasn't trying to be mean or cruel, but those words echoed every fear that Ori felt.

What if his companion, his sweet protector, was only a dream?  It was possible that Ori had finally deluded himself into thinking a dream was worth more than reality.

He stumbled into a bakery, ordered a coffee, and collapsed into a corner.  He'd heard of this place, one of the greatest pastry and coffee shops in the town.  Dori had kept an emergency stash of their triple chocolate cookies.  Always useful to have chocolate on hand in their family.

His name was called and Ori stepped up to the counter.

"Hey, you're Dori's kid brother, right?" the man behind the counter said.

Ori looked up, meeting warm, crinkled eyes.  The name tag read Bofur.

"Um, yeah, that's me," Ori shrugged.

"Good to meet you, mate," Bofur's grin widened.  "Dori's one of our most loyal customers.  Talks about you and Nori all the time you know."

Ori couldn't help but flush.  "Well, I'm flattered."  He pulled out his wallet.

Bofur waved it off, "On the house, kiddo.  You look like you need it.  Rough day?"

"Something like that," Ori sighed.  He should head back to the preschool before the children woke up.  "Thanks for the coffee."

Gripping the cup tightly, Ori left the shop, bracing himself for the cold.  What he didn't brace himself for was running into someone.  Someone tall with broad shoulders.

Ori looked up, hoping beyond hope that it was the man from his dreams.

Black hair, blue eyes, soft stubble.  Not the man Ori was looking for.  He mumbled an apology and bustled to the preschool.  Perhaps everyone was right.  Ori was growing delusional.

 

Thorin Oakenshield stepped back as a man pushed past him.  He was slight, buried in winter clothes as he pushed his way up the street.  He looked behind him at his friend.

"This coffee better be damn good to come out in this weather," his friend mumbled, pulling the scarf tighter around his neck.

Thorin gestured to the man up the street.  "He seems your type."

"Leave it, Thorin," he pushed his way into the shop.

"Come on, Dwalin," Thorin reasoned.  "Small, fiery, just your type."

"I said leave it," Dwalin growled.

"You can't keep on hiding, Dwalin.  It's not healthy for you."

Dwalin turned, fire in his pale eyes.  His shoulders were stiff and everything in his posture screamed a fight.

"You don't understand, Thorin.  You can never understand.  Just... drop it."

Thorin reached out, placing a hand on Dwalin's shoulder.  He knew he couldn't understand, but he had tried his hardest.  He'd comforted Dwalin when he woke up with a sweat.  He'd listened as Dwalin tried to put his thoughts and feelings into words.  He had done everything he could to help his friend through this.

A heavy sigh slipped past Thorin's lips.  He knew what this meant.  He tightened his fingers around Dwalin's shoulder and braced himself for what he was about to say.

"The dreams are back, then?"

Dwalin stiffened, then relaxed.

"Yeah.  The dreams are back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, with that, Dwalin is finally in the awake verse of this fic :)


	6. Chapter 6

There were a handful of times that Balin had been right, none of which Dwalin would admit to.  This was no exception.  Dwalin was a very intelligent person, majoring in engineering meant he had to be.  He was driven and dedicated to his studies, but he wasn't very good at writing.  Actually, if Dwalin thought about it, he was decent at writing.  He wasn't good at analyzing writing.

It felt too much like finding hidden meanings and guessing what the professor wanted to hear instead of creating his own ideas.

Yet his major still required him to take at least one literature class.  Some BS about having a round education.  Ridiculous.  Triangles were much stronger than circles.

And so Dwalin took his brother's advice and found a lit. major who would tutor Dwalin on how to properly analyze classical literature.  He walked into the Starbucks they were meeting at, ordered a black coffee, and sat in the corner.  He pulled out the books from his bag, setting them gently on the table.   _The Divine Comedy, East of Eden, Gone with the Wind._ Just the titles made Dwalin want to smash his head into the table.  He could be spending his time discovering clean energy.  Or making hover cars.  Or revolutionizing the way skyscrapers were built.  There were so many wrongs in this world that Dwalin could be trying to fix, but instead he had to write a paper.

Someone tapped his shoulder.  Dwalin turned.  Next to him was a student, clearly bookish, smiling down at him.

"You must be Dwalin," he said.  "I'm Ori.  Your brother is TA for my class and said you need some help with writing papers?"

Stunned into silence, Dwalin nodded.  Ori smiled brightly and sat across from him.

That changed college forever.

Dwalin barely scraped through his literature class with a B- which sent him and Ori celebrating.  Then there was Christmas with Thorin and New Years on the town and Valentines Day laughing at couples and Balin graduating.  Summer came with a wave of heat and road trips to the ocean.  Then somewhere along the line Dwalin had met Ori's brothers and rented out an apartment.  When college started again, Dwalin was ready to succeed.  He was an upperclassman now and taking the classes he wanted and nothing stood in his way.

"You know," Dwalin said as he dished up dinner for Ori, "you should just stay here."

"Yeah?" Ori took the plate and sat at the little table.

"I mean, if you don't mind bunking in the same room," Dwalin shrugged, plating food for himself.  "You're here all the time anyway.  Might as well stay."

Ori looked at him suspiciously.  "Did Nori put you up to this?"

Dwalin gasped at the thought.  "Of course not!  Your my best mate, besides Thorin.  Why not be roomies and make it easier for both of us?"

"Very well," Ori's grin was smug.  "I'll move in tomorrow."

They'd been friends for eighteen months.  Considering Dwalin had been friends with Thorin since birth, eighteen months was no time at all.  Something between him and Ori just clicked.  Ever since that study session in Starbucks, they'd been nearly inseparable.  It was one of those rare friendships that happen in an instant and last a lifetime.

And Dwalin was going to ruin it.

In the past eighteen months, Dwalin had grown overly fond of Ori.  It was the only way to explain it.  He absolutely loved that boy.  He didn't want Ori across the room from him in a different bed.  He wanted them squashed on their one love-seat watching movies or playing games.  He wanted to take Ori out to the museums he loved and eat at every greasy diner this city had.

He wanted to kiss Ori whenever he felt like it.

It was driving Dwalin insane.

He was nothing other than a man of action.  Dwalin wasn't the type to sit and wait for life to happen, no.  He was going to go out and grab it.  Ori was no exception.  Dwalin chose his time carefully, right after finals but before Christmas.  The deep breath of relief without the holiday stress.  A perfect time for a bloody love confession.  Dwalin had thought it out thoroughly, even called Thorin once or twice (a bad idea on all accounts).

Now it was a waiting game.

Ori burst through the door an hour later with the mail in his hands and scarf fluttering behind him, eyes bright, cheeks flushed.

"I got the internship!" Ori held out an open letter.

The internship.  The one that Ori had been hoping for the entire semester.  Whatever plan Dwalin had was pushed out the window as he scooped Ori into his arms for a sound kiss.  Ori kissed back like they'd been doing this their whole lives, like they were made for each other.  Each push, each pull was familiar.  The slide of their mouths in harmony felt like the sensual kisses lovers shared, familiar and well worn.

Slowly, so slowly, they pulled away, though still close enough that Dwalin could feel the heat of Ori's blush.

"Let's celebrate," Dwalin whispered.

"Let's do," Ori's arms snaked around Dwalin's neck and pulled him down again.


	7. Chapter 7

Ori sat on the ground, the children huddled around him as the Bilbo opened the door.  They held their breaths, knowing full well who was on the other side.  The door creaked open and two small boys ran for it.

"Uncle Thorin!" they squealed.

The rest of the preschool looked up at Ori for their cue.  He put his fingers to his lips and they nodded solemnly.  Looking up at the door, Ori felt a tug of jealousy in his gut.  Thorin had Fili and Kili in his arms, holding them tight against his chest, smiling and laughing.  Bilbo stared at him, not bothering to hide the desire in his gaze.  Thorin glanced at Bilbo, gave the slightest smile, and set his nephews down.

They were too far away for the conversation to be heard, but Ori saw them inch closer, grinning and flirting up a storm.  Those words Bilbo said months ago still echoed in his mind.  They were real.  Ori and his dream were not.  He ushered the kids outside, pleading with them to stay out of the mud puddles, before diving into the cleaning.  Let Bilbo and Thorin flirt.  Let him be happy.  Bilbo deserved it, as did Thorin.

Thorin was the stranger Ori bumped into in January.  He had custody of his nephews after his sister passed away in a car accident.  He doted on the twins as if they were his own, and it was clear that they respected and admired their uncle.  He moved to their small town recently with a few friends, hoping to get away from the city.  He and Bilbo had hit it off instantly and the twins were enrolled the next day.

At four years old, Fili and Kili were brilliant.  They were smart, intuitive, and could MacGyver their way out of anything.  Ori had seen them creating a contraption out of legos, books, and blankets that could be used as a hammock.  As was the usual downside with intelligence, the twins were never satisfied with what Ori and Bilbo could offer.  When they were bored, the preschool knew and they suffered.

It could be worse, Ori reminded himself.  It could always be worse.

"Mr. Ori!" Kili came bounding up to him.  "Mr. Ori!  You need to meet Mr. Dwalin."

Ori knelt down, holding Kili's hands in his.  "Who's Mr. Dwalin?"

"He's my friend," Thorin said.  "Kili's right though.  You should meet him."

"Oh no," Ori stood up and backed away with a hesitant laugh.  He knew what the look in Thorin's eyes was.  He'd seen it plenty of times shining through Bilbo's face.  "You are not setting me up with your friend.  I've had enough of that."

"Just give him a try," Thorin suggested.

Again, nothing Ori had never heard before.  Just give it a try.  One chance.  You'll never know if you don't go.  But Ori had heard enough.  He has given himself over to finding his dream companion and nothing was going to stop him.  It didn't matter who this Dwalin was, if he wasn't Ori's companion, he wasn't the one for him.

"I'd rather not," Ori held the sign out sheet for Thorin.  "If you don't mind, we have a lot of kids getting picked up soon."

Rude, perhaps, but Ori wasn't in the mind to care.  Thorin didn't know him from any other person on the street, what gave him the right to set up a blind date?  Ori walked to the kitchen, took a deep breath, and looked out the window to the kids, running and squealing on the playground.  Perhaps this was going to be his life.  Forever chasing a dream and never settling in one place.

The thought didn't bother him as much as he thought it would.

 

In the nine months since Ori began meeting with Oin, the two developed an odd sort of friendship.  When the dreams were particularly bad, no matter how late in the night or strange time of day, Oin would always answer and help Ori through the struggle.  Sometimes Ori would call just to offer a check up on the dreams, ask questions and receive advice.  Still, they kept to their traditional meetings every few weeks.

"I don't know if I should keep at it," Ori confessed.  "Everyone keeps telling me about what I should and shouldn't do.  They comment on me not dating and they think, somehow, that if I dated around I'd be happier."

"Would you?"

"Maybe?  I don't know.  It feels like..." Ori paused, testing the words out in his mind.  The idea itself was ridiculous.  It was unthinkable.  "It feels like I'm being unfaithful to him."

Oin gave a hum.  "You feel as though you and him are already connected?"

"Yeah.  Which is crazy, I know.  But I know I love him and I know that he's mine and I'm his.  Wherever or whoever he is."

"Like, soul mates?"

Ori shook his head.  He had thought about it, researched it.  The theory of soul mates didn't seem to fit what was happening between him and his companion.  This relationship seemed to transcend time and space.

Slowly, Ori said, "I don't think so."

"When you find him, bring him over," Oin said.  "I'd love to see this relationship reach fruition."

Ori sighed morosely.   _If_  he found his companion.  If.

* * *

Dwalin didn't care to hear about Thorin and his new find.  Thorin, emotionally stunted as he was, had found love where Dwalin hadn't.  Granted, Dwalin was looking for someone impossible.  Looking for the man he was dreaming of, the man he'd been dreaming of for years.  How could Dwalin love anyone else but this man?  This mysterious, magnificent man?

"You could at least give him a try," Thorin said, wiping Kili's nose.  "It would do you some good to go out."

"Mr. Ori is really nice!" Fili piped up, mouth filled with potatoes.  "He won't be offended if you don't like him."

Dwalin grimaced and ruffled Fili's hair, "Thanks."

Fili brightened and continued to eat his dinner.  Appetite gone, Dwalin excused himself to the porch.  He reached for a cigarette, fingers shaking.  He hadn't felt this much stress since he first had the dream.  It was this town.  Something about it just felt off to him.  A too small town with too few people.  The town where everyone knew everyone and there was no such thing as privacy.

Dwalin didn't want the news of his dreams to spread in this small town.  They were safe and secret to him, as private as his own soul.

"That's gonna kill you," Thorin said, leaning against the door frame.  "Look, I need you to do me a favor.'

"I'm not going on a date," Dwalin insisted.

"I just need you to pick up the boys next Thursday.  I've got an appointment."

"Done."

"Don't want the details?"

"What details?  I pick them up and bring them home.  Easy."

"Don't care about anything else?"

Dwalin glanced at him from the side of his eyes.  Thorin was up to something.

"I will pick up your boys next Thursday," Dwalin said slowly.  "I do not promise anything else."

"I'm just saying-"

"Well, don't," Dwalin flicked his cigarette butt into the trash.  "Just leave me alone.  I dealt with these dreams before I can do it again."

 


	8. Chapter 8

The house was familiar, almost too familiar.  Dwalin had been here before but not exactly at this time and place.  It was like a memory of another dream, or a dream of reality.  He couldn't tell which.

Here, however, with little Ori tucked next to him, transcended time and space.  That much he knew.  Here they were, waiting in Lake Town for their supplies to fully gather, and Dwalin was spending it in the best way he knew how - beside the love of his life.

With a yawn and a stretch, Ori snuggled into Dwalin's shoulder, blinking slowly.

"Morning, love," Dwalin murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to Ori's cheek.

Ori hummed and leaned up, "Morning."

"Perhaps we should meet the others for breakfast?" Dwalin suggested, even though the idea was far from what he wanted to do.

Ori thought about it for a second, his chin digging into Dwalin's chest.  He gave a shrug, "I prefer being here.  There won't be many more lazy mornings until we have Erebor."

"I couldn't agree more," Dwalin pulled Ori up closer to him.

Ori gave a slight chuckled and kissed him.  "Insatiable."

The word struck something in Dwalin's mind, something from a memory or a dream.  Ori saying these words against Dwalin's mouth, soft and sleepy in the morning.  Except his memory/dream version wasn't in Erebor, or even in Middle Earth.  They were in places where birds were made of metal and carriages drove themselves.

But Ori kissed him deep and slow and Dwalin pushed those thoughts from his mind.

 

When Thorin was lost to the madness, something broke inside of Dwalin.  Here he was, cursed to watch his closest friend, brother in all but blood, descend into a state of insanity.  To watch him curse Bilbo, hoard the gold, and leave the company to starve in the mountain they worked to hard to reclaim.

The only solace for Dwalin was Ori.  Strong, brave, confident, loving Ori who kept Dwalin's sanity in place, who always had open arms for Dwalin.

"I fear for us all," Dwalin confessed as he and Ori walked the halls of Erebor.  "The madness has completely taken over.  Thorin-"

He couldn't go on.  Couldn't speak the words that were bubbling up inside of him.  It was as if speaking the words made it real, made it tangible.  That Thorin was losing his mind.  Ori's hand was gentle on his arm.

"Whatever happens, we'll be together," Ori said.  "We will always be together, no matter how this ends.  I love you.  I'll always love you."

Dwalin stopped and pulled Ori in front of him, their hands intertwined.

"If this is to be the end, then we will die together."

Ori's eyes lit up with understand and he gripped Dwalin's hands tighter.  "We go as one."

The words were familiar on his tongue, having heard them repeated many times in his life.  Never had Dwalin considered when he would say these vows or to whom, but at this moment, it was perfect.

"Balin will throw a fit," Ori said, moments later as they crafted a semblance of rings for the other.  "He would have loved to see his brother married."

"Dori will throw a worse one," Dwalin countered, taking Ori's hand and sliding the ring on.  "Not keeping up with tradition and all."

"At least Nori will be pleased."

"One out of three isn't so bad."

 


	9. Chapter 9

The week had been absolute hell for Ori.  The children had been off the walls, it had rained constantly, and the dreams had stopped.  Ori had been waking up feeling empty and cold and  _alone_.  It kept him on edge, feeling as though his companion was leaving him.  Abandoning him.  It was foolish and Ori knew it.

"It's almost Friday," Bilbo consoled him, setting a mug of tea beside him on the kitchen table.  "At least you have that?"

"I suppose," Ori sighed.  "I'm just... I don't know, done with it."

"Done with the dreams?"

Ori groaned and laid his head on the table.  "I don't want to be done.  They're so important to me and I love that man.  But maybe trying to find him is going to kill me."

Bilbo gave a soft smile, "You never know."

Rolling his eyes, Ori grabbed the mug and walked into the main room, waking up the children as he went.  He trusted Bilbo to get the snack ready and he grabbed a remote, turning on a children's show.  Blankets and pillows were strewn all over the room.  Ori took a sip of the tea, set it on the bookshelf, and started stacking them in the box.  Friday's were normally movie day but Ori could make exceptions if he wanted to.  Perks of owning your own preschool.

"Oh, by the way," Bilbo poked his head from the kitchen as the children gathered around the television.  "Fili and Kili are getting picked up earlier."

"How much earlier?"

As an answer, there was a pounding knock on the door.  That wasn't Thorin's knock.  In fact, that wasn't a knock that Ori recognized at all.  Ori made sure to recognize different knocks, they were as distinctive as voices to him.  This knock was powerful, strong, and left no room for argument.  There was a strong fist on the other side of that door.  Ori shivered.  Whether from fear or attraction, he couldn't tell.

With a deep breath, Ori reached out and opened the door.

he knew that behind him, Bilbo was huddling with the children, much as Ori had done days earlier when Bilbo opened the door for Thorin.  Did Bilbo know who was on the other side?  Did Bilbo anticipate Ori falling for the mysterious knocker?

Well, not if Ori had anything to say about it.

"I'm here for Fili and Kili?" a deep, familiar voice spoke.

Ori stared up at the man and his heart sank into his toes before ratcheting up into his throat and promptly pounding in double time.  He couldn't quite breathe and he felt a bit faint, as if the room was spinning.  Ori hoped he didn't look as frantic as he felt, because the man in front of him looked as cool as a cucumber, not even the barest hint of recognition in his face.

"My name is Ori," he said, voice a whisper.

Something flickered in his eyes.  "I'm Dwalin."

Dwalin.  The name sunk into Ori's mind and every dream he'd ever had came rushing in at once, and through it all there was Dwalin.  Holding him, touching him, fighting beside him, fighting  _for_ him.  He and Dwalin in every possible realm of reality and always,  _always,_ finding each other.

"I thought..." Ori had so much to say, so much he wanted to know.  But this man was a stranger for all intents and purposes.  He was Dwalin, but was he Ori's dream companion?

"Thought you were crazy," Dwalin said slowly.  "Like there was something wrong with you, but you had no choice."

"Insanity, split personality, the whole nine yards," Ori reached out slowly.

Dwalin took Ori's hand in his, pressed it up to his face.  "But this makes it worthwhile.  To see you."

Ori's face grew hot as he felt Dwalin's face beneath his palm, rubbing his thumb along Dwalin's cheekbone.  This is what he had been looking for.  This is what he wanted for years.  To have this man before him.

"I never thought... never thought I'd actually see you," Ori could feel tears in his eyes.

Dwalin leaned down and kissed Ori slowly.


	10. Chapter 10

This was a dream.  It had to be.  Ori was sitting across from Dwalin in a small diner, twisting his hands in his lap.  Dwalin was doing much the same, moving his food on his plate.  The silence was thick, hovering over them.

There had never been such an awkward silence before.  Not in any of the dreams.  It had always been full of conversation or heated kisses or soft, comfortable silences.  Not this heavy silence that made Ori's skin itch.

"When did..." Ori started, but his voice cracked.  He took a drink and continued, "When did you know?"

"About the dreams or about you?"

Ori shuddered at the sound of Dwalin's voice.

"Either, both."

Dwalin hummed.  He reached out, placing his hand, palm up, on the table.  Without hesitation, Ori slid his hand into Dwalin's.  Dwalin's hand was rough, thick callouses on his palms.

"I've had dreams forever.  Never remembered them, but always had them and you were always there.  Just... constant," Dwalin sighed.  "And then when I saw you, it all came rushing back and I knew I wanted you, I needed you.  You were the one I was looking for."

"Are you nervous?" Ori asked, hands tightening on Dwalin's fingers.

"Nervous?"

"Do we know each other?  Or are we projecting our dreams onto each other?"

"I don't know but I want to give it a try.  Maybe the dreams mean something, maybe they don't.  All I know is that you and I were meant to be, in one way or another.  Why not give it a try?"

"What if you hate the way I brush my teeth?" Ori said.  "What if I'm not the slingshot wielding dwarf or the spy who loved you or your college tutor?  What if just normal, regular Ori, isn't enough?  What if we're the pair that doesn't work out?"

"I don't know what these dreams did to you, but I need you to listen to me," Dwalin brought both his hands to Ori's.  "Of course you're different.  You and I are different from our dreams.  This Dwalin wants to know this Ori.  Not any others.  I'm willing to make this work, are you?"

"Of course," Ori said, tightening his grip on Dwalin's hands.  "I just.  I don't know where to start."

"Well," Dwalin shrugged.  "Here's as good as any place to start."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic suddenly had a renewal in my brain.
> 
> The every-other-chapter-being-a-dream is probably done, since they met but they will constantly be mentioned.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me ya'll, it's great :)


	11. Chapter 11

Ori wasn't sure how this actually became his life.  Here he was, wrapped up in Dwalin's arms on a lazy Saturday morning.  He didn't know if this was a dream or reality, but he'd long ago given up on discovering the truth.  Dwalin's arms tightened around him and he mumbled softly.

They had spent their last few months together figuring out their dreams together.  They learned of their realities and their imaginings and, to Ori's great surprise, found that they fit together just as well as all their dream counterparts.

It might have been fate or destiny that brought them together, that allowed them to dream in such a way, but Ori gave up caring.

Here, right now, he was happy.

* * *

Dwalin and Ori stood in front of the rest of the company with hands clasped together tightly.  Ori tried very hard to ignore the hard stares from Dori, focusing only on the dwarf beside him.  His husband.

"What have you done?!" Dori gasped.

"It's the end, Dori," Ori shrugged.  "If things don't end well, I at least want to be married to the one I love."

"You can't be making reckless decisions like this!" Dori exclaimed.

"It wasn't reckless!" Ori squeezed Dwalin's hand.

Dori swelled up with fury, his face going red.  The rest of the company seemed to take the news fairly well, though anyone could take the news better than Dori.  Everyone else was smiling and grinning and Balin made the first step, walking forward and pulling them both in for a hug.

As if that broke the ice, everyone came forward with smiles and congratulations.  Fili and Kili were beside themselves with joy, jumping and squeezing Ori to death.  Thorin patted Dwalin on the shoulder with a soft smile.

Oin stepped forward and stopped, staring at them both.

"You have done something incredible," he said, taking their joined hands in his own.  "This is more than just a marriage.  You have bound your souls together.  You will be together for eternity.  There is nothing in the world that can tear you apart."

Dori spluttered.  "What are you talking about?"

"Soulmates," Ori whispered.  "There are legends of that.  Soulmates who are bound together through anything and everything.  I thought they were mythical."

"They're supposed to be," Oin said with a twinkle in his eyes.  "But perhaps there just haven't been two souls quite like yours."

* * *

The docks were busy tonight and Dwalin was late coming home.  Ori stared out into the ocean, his legs tingling.  He'd have these moments when he missed his tail more than anything.  He would love for the ocean, to swim deep beneath the waves with his brothers again.

It was like losing part of himself when he gave up his merfolk heritage.

The back door opened and Dwalin came up beside him.  He gave a heavy side as the sun set over the ocean.

"Do you miss it?" Dwalin asked.

"More than anything," Ori whispered.  "You miss it too, don't you?"

"It was worth it to save you," Dwalin said.  "I miss sailing.  I miss the wind in my hair and the cannons and everything else, but I would give it up all over again to save your life.  You are worth more than anything."

Ori sighed and leaned up against Dwalin.  "I just, I wish we could go back.  Before the battle, before all of that.  When we were just pirate and merman."

"I miss it too," Dwalin put his arm around Ori.  "But we're here right now and that's what's important."

"We'll always be together, won't we?" Ori said.  "No matter what happens, we'll be together."

"Of course we will."

* * *

Nothing is worse than a heist gone wrong and Ori knew that.  He grabbed Dwalin and pulled out his pistol.  He shot blindly and looked down at Dwalin, covered in blood and hand pressed over a bullet wound.

"Don't you die on me," Ori pressed his hands on Dwalin's hip, blood oozing from between his fingers.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Dwalin grunted.  "Where's everyone?"

"Thorin is in the vault with Bilbo but I don't know where anyone else went," Ori said.  "You are bleeding out.  If you die, I'm going to kill you."

"Counterproductive, love," Dwalin chuckled.

Bullets were flying around but Ori hardly listened.  Dwalin was dying here in his arms and he wasn't ready to live without Dwalin.  Not anymore.  Not after all they had gone through to complete this heist.

"I am not going to let you die," Ori felt tears fall down his face.  "Not after all this we went through."

"Ori, Ori, listen," Dwalin reached up, cradling Ori's head in his hand.  "I will always be with you."

"I know, I know," Ori felt his chest heave as he sobbed.  "I don't want you to go."

"I love you"

* * *

Once, a long time ago, Ori wanted answers for his dreams.  He wanted to know what they were and why they were happening.  He talked to counselors and therapists and nothing was ever found out.  Other than they happened and he just had to live with it.

Then he found Dwalin and nothing mattered anymore.  Nothing mattered but the two of them and the lives they would lead.

Dwalin blinked slowly and stretched up next to Ori.

"Morning, love," Ori smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Dwalin's forehead.  "Did you dream?"

"Only about you."

Ori sighed and slid down next to Dwalin, cuddled up with a question on his mind.  He had accepted his fate and his dreams, but there was still the curiosity, the need to know what Dwalin believed.

"Do you believe in fate? In destiny? In universes besides our own? I mean, really believe. Not some false, scientific truth that we've been told to recite, but actual belief."

He paused and felt Dwalin's eyes boring into him. Softly, in his deep, rumbling voice, he replied:

"I believe in you."

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking with me through this bizarre fic. I had so many ideas and they all kinda fell through and this is all I could do.
> 
> Thanks again :)


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